


The Dust on the Shelves

by for_t2



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Being Lost, Blood Magic, Books, Dark Fantasy, Dark Magic, Demons, F/F, Horror, Ink, Research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23432893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_t2/pseuds/for_t2
Summary: When the library goes on forever, some people never come out
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	The Dust on the Shelves

Maybe a book could sum the whole world, but there were no worlds that could sum up all books. Or, at least, that’s what Sophie has always told herself. There were too many words, too many letters, too many languages and ways of putting them all together. And after linking them one after another, there were too many ways that the light could reflect of them and too many words that weren’t there, but still existed.

Or, at least, that’s what she always thought.

But this world, where the shelves stretched on past every horizon, where the fluttering of turning pages resonated through every cell, where the oxygen itself seemed infused with the smell of paper, this world made her rethink that opinion.

“Like what you see?”

“Um…” In a world made of words, Sophie couldn’t find any. So instead she just spared a quick glance at the librarian practically curled up over her shoulder. “Yeah.”

“Good.” The librarian grinned, a smile which, despite her demon fangs, was almost good enough to tear Sophie’s sight away from the books for more than just a second. “Cause when I make a promise to someone as cute as you, I intend to keep it. And I promise you you’ll find the book you need.”

“Right.” The rumours that drifted between worlds whispered that this world, this almost neverending library, had a book for every soul that ever lived and every soulless creature that had ever wandered. Rumours that Sophie had always dismissed as just rumours. Until her research ran into a dead end. Into several dead ends. And so… “My research!”

The librarian chuckled. “If you need anything, or if there’s an apocalypse, just give me a shout.” Fastened a small necklace around Sophie’s neck, emblazoned with the library’s beacon.

Sophie gave her a smile. “Thank you.” The help was very appreciated. More than appreciated.

“Just remember,” the librarian tapped the beacon. “Don’t get lost.”

*

There were shelves and there were ladders, there were steps and bridges, and after a while, Sophie wasn’t sure where one ended and the others began. It was just books all the way down, interrupted only by scattered visitors and the wind of the librarians shifting through the air.

Sophie didn’t want to say she was in love, but… she felt like she could spend forever in here. In a way, the world felt timeless. And her research just didn’t-- 

“Oh, wow.” She grabbed the book caught in the corner of her eye. The bindings down the spine were a colour she had never imagined was possible, and the words inside were painted in one of the elegant inks she had ever seen. “Wow.”

She couldn’t read a word of the language, but she flipped through the pages anyways, tracing her finger across the words. “Wow.”

She reached for her beacon, ready to ask the librarian where the book was from. Stopped, her hand just brushing the metal. She didn’t want to bother the librarian – there were enough books to keep you busy forever. Enough books to keep Sophie busy forever. And her research wasn’t going to do itself.

But still, as she slipped the book back into its place, she couldn’t help but wonder who wrote it. What it must be like to write like that.

Whether, someday, her own words would ever end up on these shelves.

*

“I thought I told you to be careful.”

Sophie’s head snapped up from the books it was buried in to find the librarian perched up on a shelf, staring down at her. “I…” she looked down all ends of the corridors. Only shelves stared back. “What?”

“That doesn’t look like your research.”

Sophie glanced back down at the book in her hand. At the books piled on the floor around her. “It is.” She dug under the books for her pages of notes. “There were just a couple tiny things I needed to look up, and…” Well, books. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

Sophie let out a nervous little chuckle. “I’m sorry?” The librarian’s tone was too harsh, almost a deep growl. “Have I done something wrong?”

“This world is dangerous.”

Sophie chuckled again. Looked down the corridors again. “It’s just books.”

“Every book comes from somewhere.” The librarian jumped down to the floor. Reached out for Sophie’s hand. Softened her voice. “Come on. Let me help you.”

For a moment, Sophie let her hand linger in the librarian’s. Even if Sophie could feel the slight bump of sheathed claws, she had softer skin than Sophie would’ve guessed. She had warmer skin. “Thank you.” She slipped her hand away, back to the books. “But I’ll be fine.”

“I made a promise once.” The librarian didn’t move away. “Not just to keep the library safe, but the visitors as well.” Even with the fangs, her voice really was beautifully soft.

Sophie gave the corridors another glance. Just books. “Maybe once I’ve finished with these, you can tell me all about it.” She gathered up the pile. “Maybe with some coffee or something?”

“Please.”

Sophie could feel the blood rushing to her face as she smiled. “I’m almost done.” She leaned over to give the librarian a light kiss to her cheek. “But I promise I’ll be fine.”

The librarian still didn’t move as Sophie started to walk away. “You’re heading the wrong way.”

Sophie gave her another smile. Held up the books in her arms. “No, I’m not.” She remembered exactly where she had gotten the books from, and where she needed to go next for her research.

With every book, with note she took, she could feel her excitement rising up from her stomach. Could feel the possibilities soaring through her brain. The shelves didn’t just feel like a second home, they felt almost like a part of her.

*

For every dead end Sophie’s research ran into, the library opened up a dozen new paths. Every book she opened led her to the front pages of a hundred more. And so she kept walking, pushing deeper and deeper into the shelve. And with every new note she added to her piles, every new bit of exhaustion seemed to drain away.

She should’ve come to this world a lot sooner. She should’ve… 

A sound interrupted her halfway to the next book. A sound so unlike the gentle sounds of the library. A harsh, urgent scratching.

“Hello?” She pushed on further through the shelves. “Is that…” She stopped dead in her tracks.

Another person, pale white hair, hunched up on the floor, scribbling faster than could be physically possible in a book.

“Hey.” Sophie understood the value of notes, but the books in this library were too precious. “You shouldn’t—”

She stifled a scream. The person didn’t turn, didn’t even twitch at the sight of her walking up to them. Just keep scribbling furiously. The pages were blank, but the ink… Every second, blood dripped from their face and mixed with the flow of the pen. The red only shined for a second longer before fading to black. And the longer it continued, the more their face seemed to fade.

The librarian. Sophie had to-- 

The librarian. The beacon. The one that was supposed to be around her neck.

*

It had to be this way.

Sophie remembered every turn, every stair she had taken to get this deep in the library. She knew she did. But, somehow, the shelves never ended. The more she ran, the more they continued.

It was only when she tripped over a stray book on the floor that she found herself able to breathe again. “Oh, fuck.” Even if she could barely control it. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

The librarian was supposed to be there to help her. But Sophie couldn’t see her, couldn’t hear her anywhere. And with no beacon… 

The books.

The librarians knew every shelf of this world. If there was a book out of place, they’d know. She dug through her pockets for a pen. Grabbed the book she tripped over. Opened it to find a blank page.

For only a moment, she hesitated. But they’d know.

She started writing. 


End file.
